


eclipse

by indemitable



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A lot of introspection, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Introspection, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sun & Moon imagery, just a light speck of angst, we can only wish dnf were this self aware
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 21:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30112500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indemitable/pseuds/indemitable
Summary: “Why do you like the sun more than the moon?”The sun is bright, the sun is warm. People depend on it, and it’s perfectly willing to give all of its light. Sometimes George sleeps through the day, but that's okay, because the sun will greet him again tomorrow, shining bright yellow—or green, not that he could tell anyway. George loves the sun, because it reminds him of someone he knows.“Because it’s practical.”or: George doesn’t remember that much from his past life as the moon, but he does remember how much he loves his sun.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	1. ☪

George doesn’t remember much from his past life as the moon. 

Sometimes he can recall vast expanses of darkness glittered with twinkling light, and ocean tides pleading to him, reaching for him. Sometimes he still hears the faint tune of songs and whispered secrets, of the lonely souls seeking his company during especially long nights. Sometimes he sees light, the memory of rays reaching out to him like open palms, motioning, _come with me_. All of it is hazy (and he does occasionally question his sanity), but he’s certain it’s true. He doesn’t doubt that he was once the moon purely because of how much he still loves the sun.

_Why?_ asked the dono. 

_Because it’s probably more useful than the moon, right?_

__The sun is bright, the sun is practical. He’s been told the sun is yellow but he can’t tell the difference between green and yellow anyway. He doesn’t mind seeing things his own way—the world is still so beautiful nevertheless—but he recognizes the value of the sun, for its gift of light and its color. He offers his thanks when he sets his display picture as an abstract painting and claims his favorite is the flower biome._ _

__The sun is warm, always warm. Always there for him every day. He doesn’t really care if the sun is up, sometimes he sleeps through the day—but that’s okay, because the sun will greet him again tomorrow. To bring light again to every waking hour. To bring life. Holding his hand through the tribulations of life, so, so warm, the sun is George’s best friend._ _

__He loves the sun, because the sun reminds him of Dream._ _

__He isn’t certain of much, but he is certain that he loves Dream._ _

__Not the way you think, he swears. Love doesn’t have to be defined, he’s sure as hell this one can’t be. He loves Dream the way he loves the sun, the way he loves life, the way he loves a brother. (If they weren’t in any way related.) (Maybe it’s a little bit the way you think.)_ _

__Look, who doesn’t?_ _

__Dream’s very personality invites attention and exudes influence. In every series, server, global crisis, he’s like the main character. The center of the system. Everything and everyone can’t help but revolve in his orbit. He’s an initiator and a creator, coming up with most ideas and founding creations that can be certified cultural reset._ _

__It didn’t take long at all, the supernova burst to fame, and it doesn’t cease either. The way he brought light and exposure to other streamers and joy to so many viewers, can you blame George for thinking about him as the harbinger of life?_ _

__Dream shines bright, and he allows everyone else to reflect his light and shine along with him._ _

__Almost too bright. George ponders often, about what he can do about it, but there’s no stopping Dream—he’s always willing to burn, for himself and for others, with how often he has to stand up for himself and people he loves against crazy and often sour attention. Hotheaded Leo boy, abhorred Florida man, will he ever learn to just step down?_ _

__George thinks he’s really losing his sanity now, because he decides that he loves that side of Dream as well._ _

Don’t even get him started on Dream’s effect on his very own life. When was it that George realized he lived for Dream’s light? Was it the moment Dream looked him in the eye and said _George, I’m gonna blow up, come with me!_ and the whole world watched in the sidelines as he rose and shone? Or was it much earlier, when they had just met, Dream’s youthful fire sparking change across all the servers he learned to code for? Or was it before they even uttered a word? Was it when the the moon embarked on its journey from big bang right into the earth’s orbit? Was it forever? 

___George can’t tell._ _ _

___He wonders sometimes, if he can enjoy this glow if not for Dream. Dragged into fame by Dream’s virtual iron grip, he seems to shine only in reflection of his best friend’s light._ _ _

Don’t get him wrong, he loves basking in the beautiful shared light. (In the sunlight, in the spotlight, he’s never seen his friend smile with him so clearly as now.) But sometimes he just _wonders_. How much worth is he beyond being a pretty decoration in the sky? Is he even capable of emitting his own light? Among so many other stars twinkling eons after their own demise, his own youth and shine is so ephemeral it might as well not have ever existed. To the people who look up to him, the people who mean everything to him now, will they still look at him at all when the dawn breaks tomorrow? Will Dream? 

___As he always does, he tucks away the darker thoughts back into the shadows._ _ _

___It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like Dream will really spare him a glance. Not a real one, not under the open sunlight. Maybe sometimes, when the sun has dipped, he notices the fondness dripping in the edge of voices, the tinge of sincerity in playful banter, the unwillingness to ever part that isn’t wholly one-sided._ _ _

___But the sunlight isn’t always so forgiving, and this reality is no fairy tale. Sometimes people who are so good for each other just aren’t meant to be. Sometimes to touch is to burn, and to die doesn’t necessarily help someone else breathe._ _ _

___So George settles for admiring the sun, for basking in shared warmth, for receiving dazzling smiles. He keeps it all in a little container locked away within his ribs. George isn’t certain of much, but he believes that these times they have together now is enough. What is just one lifetime after all? The moments that they do share now, fleeting as they are, seem to eclipse the whole world._ _ _

___A light flickers. His monitor pings._ _ _

___“George? You up?” He can practically hear a smile in its radiance._ _ _

___And it is enough._ _ _

___“Good morning, Dream.”_ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter for dream’s pov :) 🌞


	2. ☀

_“Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe.”_

Oh, the same way Dream would do anything to make George happy? 

Dream is certain of most things in life. He takes hard stands and holds solid ground. That’s his most polished and trained skill maybe, just standing his ground, upholding his beliefs against the masses who oppose him. 

And yet he is so uncertain of why he loves the moon so much. 

Maybe it’s because he’s just a hopeless romantic, and the moon is just beautiful enough to inspire generations of melodies (maybe some of Dream’s own, though that’s nobody’s business). 

Maybe it’s because the moon isn’t like the sun, who demands all the attention to itself. The moon is brilliant on its own, for sure, but it allows the stars to shine by its side. Dream respects its devotion, its gleaming consistency, offering company even in the darkest hours. Dream loves the nights when he would sing his soft praises and secrets to the moon. He’s sure the moon listens. 

Sure the moon is ever-changing, but it’s always _there_. There’s something special, Dream decides, about knowing you’re looking at the same moon as someone, even if you’re thousands of miles away. Dream loves the moon, almost as much as he loves someone special. 

__Dream is certain of most things, but he can’t really tell just how much he loves George._ _

__George is good-looking, of course Dream admits, he’s not blind. George is ethereal. But there is so, so much more beyond the spellbinding surface, and Dream can’t get enough._ _

__Moonlight doesn’t reveal everything in the same manner as the sun, who holds its heart on its sleeve and its mouth unchecked. It’s unfortunate George is just as stingy, so finicky about revealing as little as possible no matter how much you push and prod. The depths of George lore will remain one of the seven wonders of the world probably, but Dream is a proud keeper. It doesn’t matter if it’s been years, it doesn’t matter if it’s something stupid like nutella or a myriad of other inside jokes, Dream will keep it safe._ _

__Dream can’t get enough._ _

__Can you blame him?_ _

_Everyone_ is drawn to George. Even stars have no chance with him. He’s imbued with unparalleled, magnetic, concentrated simp gravity. It happens so frequently, and yet Dream still can’t fully ignore the hot embers that stoke in his core whenever one of George’s countless admirers reach for the stone walls of his heart; he’s just fortunate George himself doesn’t ever seem to notice. 

Well, sometimes. Sometimes it’s unfortunate. His friend is, for lack of a better word, so very underrated—as a streamer, as a friend, and as a person. 

Dream doesn’t think George sees himself the way he brings up the mood in every call and every appearance, in par with how the moon so dutifully brings up the tides. 

Maybe there’s some truth to it when antis accuse George of not shining as bright as the sun, but for the most part, Dream knows they’re gravely mistaken. George might not be as blinding, but he always shines, always cheerful—when it’s dark, when others aren’t feeling as up to it, when it _counts._

Dream can’t get enough. 

And Dream aches to tell George this, tell him how much he reminds Dream of the moon, to bare his soul and reveal everything. To ramble about the different lunar phases that have been said to affect the mood, so similarly to how George influences his environment in much the same way. To tell his friend that he appreciates the way that the moon stabilizes the Earth’s axial tilt and the way George’s mere voice in their late night phone calls keep him grounded. The roaring anxieties he would’ve kept to himself, but was able to share and be soothed right through the settings of his phone’s _do not disturb_. The overwhelming emotions that, if not for George’s control, rapidly change like tides of the ocean, at least he thinks, or is he dead wrong? 

Dream laughs to himself. His friend drives him literally crazy. 

George doesn’t even need to be present sometimes to indirectly change the course of history, in the role-play world of pretend or otherwise. That’s just the legacy that is GeorgeNotFound. Not a word, not a mark for attendance, and somehow he’ll still be rewriting the course of history. Not a blemish to his flawless skin, not a sin to taint his tongue, he’s a hard worker (and that is often overlooked) but he doesn’t need to _sacrifice_ to be universally loved. Not in the way Dream does. No, he doesn’t have to _burn_ the way Dream does. 

(Not that Dream would allow it.) 

He’s mentioned it before, when recounting the moments they first met. George was a developer and Dream had bright ideas, but absolutely no ability to code. So he asked very nicely. And George completely ignored him. 

_If you never ignored me, I probably would never have become a developer. Basically, before I even met you, you had this ginormous impact._

From how long ago did Dream live to offer George light? Was it from the very first bubble of text George sent him? Is that it, the words of fate, _hi loser_? Or was it much earlier, before Dream even claimed his first breath? Was it when the stars first aligned and decided their souls were intertwined? Was it another lifetime? 

Dream is certain of most things, but he doesn’t really know about this. 

The uncertainty scares him. He wants to ask George, but he knows how the story goes. How the story ends. The universe set the moon and the sun together only for tragedy to be written in their stars. Was saying anything worth all that they’ve worked together for? Was it worth falling apart? 

Yet he almost does, so often he almost does. Every time their nightly calls stray to comfortable silence. Every time the moon, beaming at him through his blinds, gives him gentle but firm courage to be a little more brave. Too often, he almost sings, 

_I love the moon, George.  
Almost as much as I love you.  
I love you.  
I can’t get enough of you._

but morning always comes, and the curtains pull, a mask slides back on his face with a click. All you’ll see of him is a neutral smile. 

“George? You up?” Dream says instead. 

A moonbeam hum from the other line is enough to make him smile like the morning star. 

Miles upon miles of earth separate them now, but this is one thing Dream is absolutely certain of—the gravity between them is enough. 

They will meet again. And the world will only be eclipsed, only watch in awe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! this was supposed to be a ramble in the tags of a tumblr post but i reached the tag limit so i had to post here lol :( some passages are inspired by people i credit in the post!!
> 
> ramble with me on tumblr <3 (i draw dnf!!)
> 
> and do tell me what u think, or if there’s any mistakes, because this is my first time posting and i have no idea how any of this works :')


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